Driving School
by sydiy5bea
Summary: Sully "teaches" Nate how to drive.


Bullets wiz by as we run to the car. "Nate, you drive. I've got to upload the information before it gets wiped off the hard drive."

"Sully, I don't know how to drive. You refused to teach me, remember?" I yell.

"Well, no time like—oh, shit!" Sully grabs me by the collar of my shirt and pulls me to the ground as the window by my head shatters. "—The present," he finishes. "Come on." I climb into the driver's seat and Sully sits in the back seat. "What are you waiting for? Start the car already!"

I hear shouting from around the corner. "I don't know how to!"

"Twist the keys." I do as he says and the car makes a funny whining sound. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are doing? You're gonna kill the ignition. Don't hold it too long."

"Why didn't you tell me that before I did it?"

"Because I'm trying to—just drive the damn car!"

"It's kinda hard when I have NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING!"

"The gas is on the right and the brake is on the left. It's not that hard."

"Easy for you to say."

"Nate, now it really not the time to be difficult with me!"

"I'm not being diffi—" The men chasing us emerge from the hallway. "Oh, crap!" I throw the car into drive. Luckily, Sully backed in when we first got here. The tires screech as they try to find traction on the parking garage's concrete floor. I don't know when to hit the brakes or press the gas, so the ride is really jerky. I actually start to pick up some momentum, but immediately have to slam on the brakes before ramming into a double parked car. Sully is thrown forwards and smashes his face into the back of my headrest. He swears some pretty colorful curses as he pinches his nostrils to stop the blood flow. I push the stick on the side of the steering wheel up to the R. I hope that stands for reverse. "Oh, so that's why you're supposed to wear a seatbelt," I say, looking at Sully.

"Keep your eyes on the road, smart ass," he grumbles. It's all I can do to keep from laughing at his funny sounding, high-pitched voice.

I make it to the exit and stop at the ticket booth. "Sully, I need money."

"What are you—" He looks up from the screen. "Just drive through it."

"But—"

"NOW, Nate!"

"Stop yelling at me!" I step on the gas and barrel through the metal bar.

"I will once you stop acting like an idiot."

"Do you want me to turn this car around?"

"Why would you—look out!" He lunges for the wheel and yanks us to the right. We swerve to get out of oncoming traffic. "Less talking, more driving!"

"Get your hands off the wheel, I've got this."

"You'd better." He pulls back his hand and goes back to his tech thingy.

I come to a stop at a traffic light. I want to turn right, so I look for the thing that will make the clicking noise. I push on one of the sticks by the steering wheel and the windshield wipers start going. "Whoops." Next, I try the one on the other side. It starts clicking and an arrow pointing right starts flashing by the speedometer. I sit at the stop bar and wait for the light to turn green. The car behind me lays on the horn. I honk back. "It's a red light, asshole!" I say, even though I know the driver can't hear me.

The commotion causes Sully to look up from his work. "You can turn right on red."

"Oh, okay."

I start to roll forward, but Sully grabs my shoulder to stop me. "Whoa, what are you doing? There's a car coming."

"But you said…"

"You can turn right on red if there's no coming down the road you want to get on."

"That would have been nice to know the first time you said it."

"I thought that was common sense." He scoots back into his seat. "Then again, there is no such thing as common sense when it comes to you." I would have given him a biting retort, but I'm too focused on the road. "Get onto the highway as soon as you can."

"Okay." I merge and get on the entrance ramp. "Uh, Sully?"

"What?"

"How do I… do the highway thing?"

"Do you not pay attention when I'm driving?"

"No?"

He sighs. "Just do what I tell you to do, okay?"

"Isn't that what I always do?"

Sully looks like he wants to hit me upside the head, but he stops himself at the last second. He glances behind us. "Okay, put on your left indicator and scoot over one lane." I follow his directions. "Good, now speed up a little. You want to stay close to the speed limit or you're gonna get run over."

"That doesn't freak me out one bit," I mutter.

"Hey, you're doing great, kid. Just keep doing what you're doing. I'm gonna concentrate on this. Stay in this lane and you're golden."

"Okay… Just stay in this lane and you're golden…" I say to myself. I need to relax. "Can I put on the radio?"

"Nate, just—yes. Just… Yes." He doesn't even look up. Five minutes later, he exclaims, "Aha!"

"You got it?"

"Yes. You want me to drive?"

"Nah, it's cool. I'm actually getting pretty good at this."

"You are, actually. The ride's not as jerky." Sully jumps into the passenger's seat. "I was not this good when I was your age. And my dad actually tried to teach me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I just didn't listen to him. I hated him, so anything he said was dumb in my mind." He laughs to himself, lost in memories. "I was a crazy teenager." There's a pause in the conversation as I change lanes. When I don't hit anything, Sully pats my back approvingly. "Alright, that's my boy."

I don't look at Sully, because I'm afraid something will magically appear in the middle of the road if I move my eyes, but I sit straighter and lift my chin a bit higher. His compliment instills confidence in me and I'm more relaxed the rest of the way home. I never realized how much I internalize what Sully says. Sure, he's my best friend, but he's also my mentor. A "good job" with a smile or a "Nate" with a warning glance both have profound effects on me. After we come to a stop in our parking spot, I say, "I don't hate you, Sully."

"Uh, thank you?" he asks quizzically.

"No, I mean, I listen to what you say. I may not like it, but I listen. Your words mean a lot to me."

He smiles and messes with my hair. "Aw, Nate. You're making me blush." I laugh and push his hand away. Then Sully takes the key out of the ignition and puts it in his pocket. "Although you did an awesome job today, you're not ready for a car."

"If I can successfully steal the keys from you, can I have the car?"

Sully thinks this over for a second, then nods. "Okay, sure. You've got yourself a deal." We shake hands. "But let me warn you, I won't go easy on you."

I shrug. "Well, let the games begin, Mr. Sullivan."

Spoiler alert: I have yet to steal his keys.


End file.
